He was absent, but he was there.
Takaba Akihito slept, spoke, worked and acted just as Takaba Akihito always had, but he wasn't really doing it.
He was just acting. Pretending for the sake of Asami.
Asami could tell. The boy's eyes were dull, his skin pale, and his cheekbones gaunt. His hair was slightly thinner than usual, and his energy suddenly zapped to an all time low.
Yet, he still acted happy, for Asami.
He still played the perfect role of Takaba Akihito, for Asami.
And he remained the forever defiant, stubborn photographer, for Asami.
And Asami often wondered, what was Akihito doing for himself? When had the boy become Asami's house pet, and when had his main purpose of life morphed into some sick sex slave for Asami.
Despite his actions, despite his cruel actions, Asami didn't want Akihito caged, he didn't want him to be a mindless ghoul who existed only to suffice his own selfish desires.
He wanted that free spirit.
But that beautiful spirit was dying, Asami's beautiful orchid was dying.
His dirty hands had soiled the fleshy petals, lay ruin to their vibrant colors. He grew the seed, yet he was oblivious to it's care and nourishment.
And everyday, a petal fluttered onto the cold, hard ground, away from the light, and into the darkness.
Every day, Akihito's tears spilled into the abyss, and it wouldn't be long before those innocent drops of liquid, which bore the sadness of a million nations atop of them, anchored the photograph into the pit with them.
When that happened (and if Asami continued to watch his kitten wither away, it would), Takaba would be too far gone to even be considered living.
He'd be more of a zombie than he already was. He'd purr like a kitten, roll on his back like a dog, spread his legs like a whore, and please Asami with trained accuracy and pleasure, like a prostitute.
At that thought, Asami smirked.
Wasn't Takaba already doing that for him? Wasn't he already living to please him, striving to be better than the others ?
And what on Earth was Asami doing to dissuade Akihito's gnawing paranoia.
The photographer suspected that Asami was cheating on him. And who wouldn't? Those insects clung on to Asami like hungry leeches, they fought for his attention, and craved his expensive time. They were always around him. He lived in a world of gems and riches.
But Asami and Akihito weren't much different.
Only, Asami never allowed his "fans" to take advantage of him, like Akihito had. They both garnered unwanted attention, but their management differed them from one another.
But than again, Asami reminded himself that Akihito was just twenty three years old, that he hadn't experienced half of the shit Asami had been forced to live through. So dealing with it was not the easiest, especially not for a gentle being like Akihito.
And Asami prayed to whatever god existed in the sky, that Akihito would be spared the atrocities that the Yakuza had faced throughout his life.
And he supposed the fulfillment within his prayer resided within him. Takaba was his flower, he needed to water him. Akihito was his kitten, he needed to feed him.
Akihito was spoiled, and had been passed around like a used tissue. In the greedy eyes of the Japanese Underworld, Takaba's worth was quickly waning away.
Therefore, since Asami was practically the leader of the Underworld, Takaba's value must have dwindle away by now.
That was how Takaba's one-sided thought process worked.
So he had to please the older man, he had to do shameful, unforgivable acts. If it meant Asami loving him, if it meant staying by Asami's side, he'd do anything.
And that scared Asami more than anything, because with Akihto, they sky was the limit to options that were available to him.
He's transformed Akihito into...into something. Something that's a hollow shell, and the angelic soul is gone.
Perhaps a ghost? Or maybe an addict?
Then would rehab...but he risked the chance of losing Akihito, forever.
To keep him meant to kill him, to heal him meant to lose him?
Life's a bitch, and Asami knows this all too well.
He has to choose.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"You're going to therapy," Asami says, as he pulls his steaming coffee mug away from his lips, "Your things are already packed, your leaving in five minutes."
Needless to say, Akihito rebels.
"Why the hell do I need therapy, if anything, you're the one who needs help! First off..." Takaba's sour complaints are mute to Asami's ears. He stands, and places his mug on the table, and begins to make his leave.
Takaba's words drown out suddenly, and he knows that the older man is dead serious. The atmosphere is tense, and it's hard for Akihto to breath.
Suddenly, he feels like a tiny mouse, about to be taken to a scary lab for tests.
He doesn't want this, and he tries to claw at Asami's arm. But the older man is already gone, past the threshold of the door, and Kirishima's iron grip has secured Akihito's thin wrist.
He screams for Asami, because he knows that after this, things will be different.
He'll be "fixed".
He doesn't want to be fixed, he doesn't want to be away from Asami.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Four months later, he's diagnosed with Stockholm Syndrome. Suddenly, things begin to fall into place, sexual actions begin to make sense, and Akihito is slowly returning back to normal.
Asami hasn't come back for him, Asami hasn't even called him.
A month later, he's released. He doesn't visit Asami.
He tries to stay away.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
A year later, Asami is in a warehouse, he's trading expensive cargo.
In the middle of the trade off, from high behind him, the familiar "click" of a camera resounds throughout the vacant structure.
He's the only one who hears it. His heart skips a beat.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
When he returns to the apartment, his theory is confirmed. Those raggedy shoes are at the door mat, dinner is cooking, and Akihito is talking loudly to someone on the phone.
How he got in, no body knows.
Asami walks slowly behind the photographer, because for once in his life, he's completely unsure of what to do.
And he's slightly weary of Akihito, whose hovering above a pot of boiling oil, an Asami is well in throwing range.
His phone conversation comes to a sudden halt, and he spins around quickly.
"You're going to therapy," he says calmly, "because I want them to help you, like they helped me."
Because no matter what, I'll still love you.
The voice on the other line booms, and Akihito hastily returns to the impatient caller.
Asami thinks about what Akihito said, and wonders if he truly needs help. The instant he denies it, he supposes is the instant he actually needs it.
And he's been denying help for quite some time now. He has an addiction. It's the photographer standing right before him.
But he has an urge, an inkling to want to get better, to "heal", because he wants to thrive off of his addiction.
But Akihito's happiness should not be at expense, neither should his sanity, or his life.
Because Asami cares for the photographer. He cares for the "Takaba Akihito", because he is addicted to him, and him alone.
Not some hollow shell.
Asami sighs, and pulls the boy into a soft hug. The phone lowers for a second, and Akihito melts into the embrace.
They stay like that, for what seems like hours.
And then, the voice booms again, this time, ten times angrier.
Takaba grunts. Asami sighs.
He returns to cooking, and Asami walks to his room.
He smiles as Takaba returns the angry callers remarks with snidey curses of his own.
Things are back to "normal".
And Asami thinks he's starting to know what love is. He just needs a little help to show him how to love.
Disclaimer: I don't own the VF.
I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes, i'm writing this late.
Thank Yaoimom for rekindling this dying flame in my head! She recently reviewed, and mentioned Stockholm Syndrome, and I though to myself, "that's kinda what Takaba has", and decided to dedicate a whole chapter to it, so thank you Yaoimom!
Stockholm Syndrome is when you develop feelings for your captor.
My computer doesn't recognize "snidey" as a word, it just means rude, ignorant, etc. My computer doesn't recoginize ya'll either. But we use it all the time here in the South. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, Happy belated Mother's Day to all of you mothers (Especially Yaoimom). Have a nice week, keep the world in your thoughts/prayers. And God bless!